Ninety Days Of Winter
by k2323
Summary: Set between Seasons 2 and 3. Rick has no idea how right he is when he says, "It's going to be a long winter." Find out how the group regains trust in Rick, how Carl and Beth are forced to grow up, how Daryl becomes Rick's new right-hand-man, and much more. Plenty of Walker killing ahead. Romance, too, if you're into that. Currently in Part 1: The Hunting Grounds.
1. Day One

**Author's Notes: **Bla bla bla disclaimer bla bla. So. This story details the tough winter between the time that the group leaves the Greene farm up until the time they take the prison. So, it's set between Seasons 2 and 3. Lots of character development and walker killing. Find out how the group comes to trust Rick again, how Carl and Beth are really forced to grow up, how Daryl becomes Rick's new right-hand-man, and much, much more.

**A Walking Dead Fanfic: 90 Days Of Winter**

Beth Greene was a scared and confused sixteen year old girl. What, you think you'd be any different than her? If you were a sixteen year old girl, do you honestly think you'd be perfectly okay when zombies attacked and threatened everyone you loved? No? Didn't think so.

She'd needed some help, of course, getting over her depression. It'd been a long winter, and she'd lost her boyfriend, the only one even close to her age in the group, when the walkers had attacked the farm. Oh, how she missed Jimmy so much. Still, she knew that he'd want her to keep going – to be strong.

So, with Jimmy gone, there were only a number of people whom she could really talk to about things. One, for instance, was her sister, with whom she had a special bond that only sisters could have. Her sister wasn't too much older than her, and they shared everything these days. As winter came, Beth and Maggie relied on each other throughout the constant migrating, raiding, and killing. Naturally, Beth became close with Glenn as a result.

The three had spent many a night huddled up on one side of the camp fire, talking before bed time, laughing, making jokes, and just trying to forget the hell they were in. Rick didn't mind it, so long as they kept their voices down and went to bed on time. However; there were times when Maggie and Glenn wanted their 'alone time', and Beth sometimes felt like a bit of a third wheel. It was during times like this that she turned to Carl, her junior of three years, to spend time with. They grew to be very close, and in time, Carl was let in on the (not so) late night chats around the camp fire that the young adults looked forward to after days full of killing walkers.

Our story begins, however, not on one such night, but during the day. The group was traveling in their four-vehicle-caravan, as they typically did during the day (and sometimes at night as well), still well on their way towards Fort Benning. Normally, getting from Atlanta to Fort Benning would have been a simple trip of about two hours. With all the walkers, though, taking the interstate would be suicide. So, for days now, they'd been traveling the back roads, stopping in every little town to rest up for a few days. It couldn't be avoided with a pregnant woman in the group.

It was December – the 21st, according to Glenn, who had taken over such responsibilities since the very unfortunate death of Dale. On this particular day, as the group ran along some abandoned back country road, Rick was in the lead, driving the Chevy Suburban, carrying Hershel, Lori, and Carol. Daryl followed beside Rick, not exactly behind, just in case he needed to take the lead with his rather speedy motorcycle. Glenn had the wheel of the Hyundai, firmly behind Rick and Daryl, and he was riding along with Maggie, Carl, and Beth. Lastly, T-Dog took the rear in his (newly acquired) Dodge Ram.

Glenn and Maggie were holding hands as he drove along calmly, his eyes peeled on the road ahead. Beth and Carl were in the back seat playing with some cards Carl had picked up from a country store about a week back. Things were mostly quiet. They were always quiet these days.

"What are Jokers again?" Beth asked as Carl laid a card face up.

Glenn's eyes squinted a bit as he glanced up into the distance.

"Is that a car?" he asked Maggie quietly.

"I... I think so."

"I swore I just saw it move."

"I think you're seeing things," Maggie countered playfully. "Too much time in the sun."

"Hah!" Glenn replied, "I wish we could get some time in the sun."

Carl ignored the conversation up front, replying to Beth, "Jokers are wild cards."

"O-oh, okay," Beth replied, placing her own card, a joker, place up.

"You've got to be KIDDING me!" Carl muttered, sliding his cards over towards Beth. "I hate War."

"Yeah," Beth replied, setting her cards down, "It is getting old."

Glenn's eyes were still fixed on the parked car up ahead, taking up one lane, parked horizontally across the lane. They were quickly getting closer to the car, and Glenn realized that Daryl needed to get over and take up the space between his vehicle and Rick's. Lightly tapping his breaks, he let Daryl slide in front of him as they kept getting closer.

"I think it's an Acura," Glenn theorized.

"I always wanted an Acura," Maggie replied.

"I drove one back in my pizza delivering days."

Carl neatly shuffled the cards they'd been playing with before setting them back in their small cardboard box. Taking the text book which they used as a table for their card game, Beth reached back into the back seat, placing the book neatly away, and she grabbed a blanket, wrapping it firmly around her. It was getting cold. Even in winter, Glenn liked riding along with the AC on full blast. Carl didn't mind it, but the girls often got cold.

"Say, B-" Carl began.

"Glenn," Maggie demanded, urgency in her voice.

"What's wrong?"

"I swear I just saw someone move in that car."

"Now you're the one being ridiculous."

"No, s-"

_**SCREEEEECCHHHH**_

As Rick and the Chevy road past the apparently abandoned car, it revved to life, it's driver becoming painfully visible as the man inside slid up from the seat he'd been leaning back in. The Acura driver floored the gas, and an alarmed Rick barely got by safely as the Acura slid into the incoming caravan. Daryl was not so fortunate. Slamming into the Acura, Glenn watched, horrified, as Daryl's body was thrown into the air.

Slamming onto the breaks, Glenn jerked the wheel to the left, running off the road to avoid hitting the Acura as Daryl had done. Sliding down a hill off the road, Glenn looked over at Maggie, terrified, and then back at Beth and Carl. Expertly moving the wheel of the Hyundai, Glenn managed to avoid hitting multiple trees as he brought the car to a stop.

...

Silence.

"Is everyone okay?" Glenn asked calmly.

A stream of affirmative replies came back. Luckily, they were all fine, just very disturbed. They'd just been run off the road. Daryl could be dead. T-Dog could be, too. What had just happened? They had almost died – and not because of a walker. Whoever had been driving that Acura was very, very human.

As the four shuffled out of the vehicle, they could hear Rick screaming out their names – and crying in the background, no doubt Carol's.

"We're down here!" Glenn replied.

Examining their situation, Glenn noticed that they'd come down a nicely sized hill, stopping just short of the treeline of the woods. Looking up, they saw Rick at the top of the hill, still on the road above, peering down at the four.

"Is anybody hurt?" Rick asked.

"We're fine, Dad," Carl replied.

"Better get up here fast," Rick replied, turning on his heels as he disappeared from the sight of the four.

"You guys go ahead and climb up," Glenn said, "I'm going to get the car back on the road."

"You're not serious," Maggie replied, "We almost died. Forget about the stupid car."

"Relax, Mags," Glenn replied, "I'll be fine."

"Fine. I'm going with you," she replied, opening the passenger seat door and sitting inside.

"No, Maggie, look.. It's a steep hill. I don't want you to get hurt if we can't make it up."

"You're not going alone," Maggie protested.

As Glenn and Maggie argued about the car, Beth and Carl started up the hill. It was easier for Carl, who's cowboy boots were more optimal for such climbing. He kept moving, placing one hand above the other, shuffling his feet. It was almost like riding a bicycle. He was probably half way to the top when -

"C-Carl," Beth's voice gently called out.

Looking down, he saw Beth a bit behind, obviously struggling to get a footing as she tried to climb behind.

"Give me your hand," Carl demanded, reaching down towards Beth.

Struggling, she reached up, trying to grab onto Carl's hand. After a few tries, she succeeded, and the next thing she knew, she could feel Carl's body heat as he pulled her up towards her. _He's strong_, she thought, _Really strong._ Pushing thoughts out of her mind, Beth felt herself blushed as she quietly managed a, "thanks" before they kept climbing.

When they got to the top of the hill, Carl helped Beth up onto the road. Examining the scene before them, they could see clearly what had happened after Glenn had run off the road. T-Dog's truck hadn't been able to stop in time, and it'd rammed into the Acura (and Daryl's motorcycle), running the Acura off the side of the road, killing the driver instantly.

Carol, Hershel, and Lori were huddled around Daryl, who was still alive (but pretty banged up) and passed out. Beth joined the three, watching quietly, ready to lend a hand if needed, as she had done many times with her dad in the past – of course, most of her dad's patients had been animals. She'd learned a lot from her dad when Carl had gotten shot. She'd thought about being a doctor once, but any thoughts such as that had long ago been disposed of what with recent events.

"He's lucky," Hershel noted, "He decelerated enough before crashing that his injuries shouldn't be too serious. A few broken bones. Probably no internal bleeding. His leg's broken. We're going to have to adjust it, and we better do it now before he comes around."

As Beth rushed to help her father, Carl joined his own father and T-Dog, who, apart from maybe a small concussion, was fine. Smiling as he stepped out of the Ram, he let out a proud, "That foreign shit doesn't stand a chance against my truck," as he helped Rick rip open the Acura door.

Carl watched as his father and T-Dog examined the man inside. A moment later, Rick motioned for Carl to join the two at the driver's door. Glaring inside the incredibly beat up Acura, Carl saw the dead body before him.

"Take a good look, son," Rick insisted, "This is what happens when you're stupid out here on the road."

"What was he doing, Dad?" Carl replied.

"Probably a scavenger. Trying to pick off the weak like a _coward_," he explained as he grabbed ahold of the body, pulling it out of the car and laying it out on the ground. "Finally met his match."

"Go ahead, Dad," Carl insisted, "Get rid of him."

"No," Rick replied, pulling out his knife, "I want you to do it this time."

Carl hesitated. Looking up at his father with uncertainty, he took the knife, his hands shaking as he contemplated how he could bring himself to do this. He wasn't scared. He knew that he had to protect everyone. Still, when it came time to do something like this, it wasn't exactly easy. He felt his dad's hands grab onto his own, steadying them. With a deep breath, Carl brought the knife down, planting it straight into the forehead of the dead body before him.

"We'll have to sleep here tonight," Rick decided, "There's a town about ten miles north. A group of us can head in tomorrow and get some medical supplies," and then, almost as an afterthought, he finished, "It's going to be a long winter."


	2. Day Two - Morning

**Author's Notes: **Hey guys! Autumn's usually quite busy for me, and now that my semester at Uni is coming to a close, I have more time to update. Thanks for the feedback, continue giving me your comments. :) I must admit I'm a bit of a Carl/Beth fan but want to do it in a way that's not _awkward _and _weird_ but more cute and innocent – three years is a large age gap for people at that age, but considering it's the zombie apocalypse, I think it'd be more acceptable.

**Day 2**

_**Christmas Shopping**_

"You know," Daryl offered, sitting on the counter of the small little store, his shirt peeled, his face bruised with pain as Hershel applied new bandages on his body, "My ma... She used to say there ain't ever no snow in Georgia in December. Never comes till February. The year... The year after she died, it snowed on Christmas day. I never did forget that."

"We used to spend Christmas up north," Glenn replied, moving some canned foods into his backpack as he spoke, "My parents didn't really celebrate it... It wasn't part of our culture. We had family in Wisconsin that did celebrate, though, so we'd go visit them. There was always tons of snow... I wonder if they survived. It's probably getting awfully cold up there."

"We need to prepare ourselves," Rick spoke up now, his eyes still peeled on the glass entrance to the small store, watching for Walkers, "There could be a lot of migrants moving down South. We need to find some more permanent shelter. Winter's going to be cold, and we need to be safe." He eyed Lori. "All of us."

"Man, it's like I been sayin'," T-Dog interjected, "We gotta move down further south towards Florida."

"Maybe that's not such a bad idea," Rick replied, "Start moving further south."

"Beat the cold," Hershel agreed, "I've got some family in the Panhandle. If they're still alive, maybe we can find shelter with them."

"Imagine that," Rick replied, cracking a smile, "Sippin' martinis on the beach."

Eyeing the tired and bruised up crowd, his face hardened. "I'll think about it. Florida's a long ways from Fort Benning. I'm not sure if it's the best idea for us to be traveling so far."

Nobody dared issue a rebuttal.

._=~-_

Beth's eyes opened gently to the smell of dying camp fire smoke. She could feel the uncomfortable seat of the Hyundai underneath her, and longer for warmth, her skin cold from the night. Sitting up gently, she noticed she was alone in the vehicle, parked just off the road where they'd set up camp the night before, just a bit into the forest which they'd almost crashed into yesterday. Opening the car door, she could hear the _ding, ding, ding_ it insisted on making until she closed the door.

"Hey, Beth."

She turned, a bit surprised, to see Carl sitting at the nearly extinguished fire, a blush on his face. Why was he blushing? Looking down, she noticed she was still dressed in her night clothes, and, well, she was _cold_. Managing a smile out of both embarrassment and genuine kindness.

"Hey," she timidly replied, rushing to the back of the Hyundai, safely out of sight. Carol, meanwhile, who was seated firmly on a cinder block around the fire with Carl, was trying hard to suppress a smile at the situation.

Opening the trunk of the Hyundai, she pulled out her pink little duffel bag with leopard prints. Even with zombies invading, it was something personalized, something that was _hers_. Pulling out her clothes, she neatly clutched them to her chest as she closed the trunk of the Hyundai and started slightly deeper into the forest, not out of ear shot's range but just enough out to give her some privacy. Normally she and Maggie would cover each others back, but it seemed that it was just her, Carl, and Carol here at the moment. Carl had seen enough of her body already today, and Carol – well, with Carol, it'd be sort of awkward for some strange reason Beth couldn't quite understand.

Setting her clothes on a tree stump, Beth reached down and pulled her white T over her head, disposing it onto the ground as the cool breeze hit her bare chest, sending shudders through her body. Pulling her pink shorts and panties down to join the white shirt on the ground, she shook her leg slightly as the waste band of the last bit of clothing protecting her from this cold gently fell from her toes from which it dangled to the cold ground. Bending down, she quickly reached for her red bra first, fumbling with it, a bit nervous now, out in the cold, alone. Next she reached for her panties, stepping into them and quickly pulling them up her legs to gently nest her crotch as she grabbed her faded jeans and pulled them up, jumping a bit to b-

_ROAAAARRRRR-_

Carl and Carol jumped to alert at the sound of the Walker's growl, followed by Beth's scream as the poor girl came running out from the woods, jeans around her legs threatening her balance and still without a shirt. Tripping, falling to Carol's feet, she quickly helped the girl up and calmed her down, whispering, "Shhh, it's okay..."

Carl, meanwhile, found his hands shaking, clutching onto his rifle. It was locked and loaded, ready to go. He rushed into the forest. He could hear Carol's shouts for him to wait behind him, but he didn't. He had to protect the group. He had to protect Carol and Beth, it's what his dad would do, but honestly, he was scared to death.

He could see it near the tree stump. It was graveling, moving, walking around. A Walker, no doubt. It's hands reaching, searching, confused, the smell of human scent on Beth's discarded clothing, but no human to be found. Walking. Searching. _**Hungry.**_ It needed to eat. _Raaawellgjfjelllalidkso _it was calling out, demanding for its food to come back, searching, lost, without any relative sense of direction.

Carl's gun was pointed. He knew how to do it. He'd done it before, to Shane, but could he do it again? That was to save his dad. But this was to save Carol and Beth, so it was the same, right? No immediate danger. It wasn't that easy to just pull the trigger. It was... **Do it, Carl.**

With a deep breath in, he remembered everything they'd taught him. Ready. Squeeze.

**Psk _pow_**.

Resounding echos of the gun shot, but it wasn't Carl who'd fired his weapon. The Walker was dead, but Carl was genuinely confused, then concerned. Turning, his gun ready, he searched for the source of the gunshot. There. A woman with long, black hair; fair, olive skin; tattered black leather clothing. Carl didn't know who this woman was, but she looked like cat woman.

._=~-_

The group split off the scavenge the rest of town square. Daryl, Rick, and T-Dog were searching for parts – or at least a hammer – to fix up T-Dog's small dent and Daryl's irrevocably damaged motorcycle. Hershel and Lori were searching for some medical supplies for Daryl – bandages, mainly – he'd be fine. He was already back on his feet, but Hershel would have to keep an eye on him. Lastly, Glenn and Maggie were seeing if there was anything else they could round up.

The boys managed to find a small auto-parts shop, a local one. As they approached the building, eyeing the open garages, the abandoned cars lifted into the air by equipment, ready to be inspected – they pulled out their weapons – T-Dog carrying an arrow, a bow ready to go; Daryl carrying a large, metal club; Rick carrying a shot-gun – and got ready to fire at any Walkers they might find inside. Quickly and quietly moving into the garage, they heard nothing. Looking into the cars, they found a few dead, rotting bodies – mechanics – with gun wounds in their heads. No Walkers.

"We're all clear," Rick announced, digging through equipment, looking for anything they could use. Daryl made his way towards the offices of the small repair shop – abandoned, of course, but it smelled just as bad as the dead bodies in the garage. There was a desk in the office with a computer and some old papers upon it, customer invoices and the like – and a picture of a man in a greasy outfit at the shop posing with his daughter. Probably the owner. Daryl's focus wasn't on the old picture of long gone times, though – instead, it was on the bottle of bourbon he found in one of the drawers of the desk. Grinning, he picked it up and moved back out into the garage.

"Hey," he called out.

"What'd you find?" Rick asked as he and T-Dog stopped their searches, joining Daryl in the middle of the garage with a few parts gathered in their hands. When Rick eyed Daryl's bottle of bourbon, a smile spread across his face and he started chuckling. "Yeah. I think I'll take that off your hands."

._=~-_

"You know," Hershel broke the awkward silence as he and Lori dug through the counters at the pharmacy. "It's none of my business, but I've noticed that there seems to be a wedge between you and Rick. If there's ever anything you need to talk about..."

"Thanks," Lori replied abruptly, "I appreciate that, Hershel. Rick and I... We... We're just going through a rough patch. That's all."

"Lori, I've been married twice in my life, and believe me, we had our share of rough patches. Not talking to your spouse in two weeks is more than what we call a rough patch. Now, I know it's not my place, but what's best for you and Rick is what's best for all of us. Have you tried _talking_ to him? Rick's a good man. He can see reason."

"Rick... Rick is a good man. I've let him down. As a wife, I've failed him, and I can see it in his eyes. When I... When he told me what had happened. When he told me everything. I wanted to be there for him, I really did, but I-"

"You felt hurt. We all did. But people are finally realizing that Rick's our only hope to get through this, and we've got to support him."

"I know. I just don't know if he'll let me in," Lori replied, "I can't even get Carl to talk to me."

"Everything's going to be just fine," Hershel assured her, "You've just gotta believe in your marriage. You've got to have faith."

._=~-_

"HAH!" Glenn exclaimed, a bit louder than he had intended, which earned a quick, 'Shhh!' and 'are-you-crazy' look from Maggie, who was keeping guard as Glenn went through CD's in the small music retail store. "Sorry."

"Glenn, don't you think we should be gathering _supplies_ or something?"

"We are gathering supplies," Glenn rebutted, "Entertainment supplies. If I have to spend another car ride listening to a thirteen year old flirt with your sister, I-"

"Glenn!" Maggie tried to scold, but she couldn't – she was laughing too much, "She's sixteen. There's nothing going on between them."

"I was a thirteen year old boy once too, Mags," Glenn replied, "I'm not saying there's anything going on between them, but Carl's definitely _thinking _about it."

"He's thirteen," Maggie replied, "Not all teenage boys are perverts."

"Most are."

"Are not."

"Oh, they most definitely _are_," Glenn replied, "Girls too. It's only natural."

"THAT is not natural," Maggie replied.

"Oh come on," Glenn came back as he shuffled between Alice In Chains and Nine Inch Nails. "Are you honestly telling me you didn't get dirty thoughts when you were thirteen?"

"Not at all," Maggie replied.

"You're lying."

"At _thirteen_ I was too busy worrying about what table to sit at during lunch or, I don't know, rather I was going to make the soccer team. Not _sex_, and most definitely not with someone three years older than me."

"I guess guys are just different," Glenn settled, shrugging as he picked up a few CD's.

"Or you're just different," Maggie offered, "Carl's a _kid._"

"A kid who thinks your sister's hot."

"You're disgusting," Maggie concluded.

"It's a good thing you love me."

._=~-_

"Damn it, kid," the woman cursed as Carl took in her sexy figure. She was walking towards him, but he reaffirmed his stance, holding his gun up to make her stop. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

She put her gun, a sawed-off-shot-gun, down, and Carl slowly lowered his. The woman crouched down over the dead Walker, pulling out a knife and cutting into his fingers.

"You made me kill my bate."

"B-bate!?" Carl replied, unsure what to make of the situation.

"Bate. Well, not really bate. I call it bate, but I guess it's more of a tracker. The Walker searches for food, and I follow behind it. If I'm lucky, it finds a dear, and I get to it before this guy does."

"That's crazy," Carl replied.

"Food supply's low. A girl's gotta eat, and I like the taste of fresh dear meat better than the taste of canned, processed food. What's your name?"

"Carl," he replied, "What's yours?"

"_Meagan._ What's a kid like you doing out in the middle of the woods with..." she eyed Beth's clothing from earlier, "Girl's clothing?... **Oh.** I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"What?" Carl replied, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, kid. You know...The birds and the bees? _Sex._ Hasn't anyone taught you anything? How old are you, anyway?"

A blush spread across Carl's face as he realized what she was talking about.

"Thirteen."

"Hah!" she replied with a grunt as she cut off more of the body parts of the dead Walker. "Fun age. You must be doing something right if you're already taking girls into the woods at thirteen."

"I think you need to go," Carl replied.

"Why the hurry?" Meagan replied, "I ain't gonna hurt ya. I need his body parts to attract a new one. If I burn these body parts, it releases their scent, attracts them like crazy."

"That sounds dangerous," Carl replied, "You need to go. Far away. Light your fire somewhere else."

"Why?" Meagan replied, "You got a _camp_ or something?"

"You don't need to know about that!" Carl fired back.

"CARL!" he could hear Carol's voice somewhere in the background.

"Who's that?" Meagan asked, amused as she stood up, depositing the freshly cut body parts into the book bag she wore upon her back, "The woman you brought out here?"

"What?" Carl asked, "Ew! N-no." He was blushing again.

"Look, kid," Meagan settled, "I'm going to meet back up with _my_ camp. We'll set the fire a few miles away. You won't have to worry about us."

She started to walk away.

"Wait!" Carl shouted out, "How many of you are there?"

"Good luck with your woman, kid!" Meagan shouted out as she disappeared into the tree line. Carl sighed, taking a seat on the tree stump when his eyes came face-to-face with Beth's panties. The blush on his face grew twenty shades more red.

._=~-_

By about noon, the group had met back up at the center of town square. All together, today, they'd managed to round up enough food for a week, some fresh water, auto-supplies (and a hammer), a big, unopened bottle of bourbon (Wild Turkey), bandages, some pain killers, three extra containers of gas in case of emergency, and a bunch of CD's.

As they loaded it all up into their cars, Rick noted, "We've gotten lucky so far. Some of these smaller towns are a lot more full of supplies, but I think we've got to start planning. Looters have picked off a lot of these places, and it's only going to get worse the more time goes on. We need to start checking _houses_, seeing what we can find there."

"There's a neighborhood just around the block. Should we go check there?"

"No, that's fine," Rick replied, "This is plenty for now. Did anyone find any ammunition?"

No response.

"We're getting low. Might be a good idea to look for a pawn shop next time we stop."

"We could check in Plains," Daryl suggested, "Who knows. Maybe Jimmy Carter's still alive down there too."

"At the very least, we'd have a lot of peanuts," T-Dog added.

"Plains is a long way away," Rick replied, "This is exactly what I'm talking about. We've got to start searching these houses. Somebody's bound to have weapons and ammo waiting for the taking. We'll come back tomorrow and check it out. For now, we need to be getting back to camp."

"Rick," Maggie replied, walking over to Rick, a walky-talky radio in her hand, "It's Carol. There's a problem back at camp."

**Author's Notes: **Right! I'll probably write some more today but no promises about when the next installment will be up. What are everyone's thoughts? I'm new to the Walking Dead fanfiction scene, so I'm not sure how you guys like your fanfics – more romance? More action? More Daryl? Let me know! :)


	3. Day Two - Afternoon

**Author's Notes: **Hellloooo everyone! Right, so where did we leave off? I believe the group was heading back to camp, Beth was half-dressed, and Carl almost shot some chick wearing leather. :)

**Day 2 – Noon**

"Okay, Rick," Carol replied as she held the radio to her mouth with one hand and comforted Beth with the other, "We're all safe here. Take your time."

Putting the radio on the ground, Carol stood up, looking down at poor, frightened Beth sympathetically. "I'll be right back. I have to go up to the road to signal the others so they don't pass the camp. Are you going to be okay here?"

"I-I'm fine," Beth replied, not sure if she really was fine or not.

Carol wasn't so sure either. She needed to go guide the others back to the camp, but she didn't want to leave Beth alone, and she was getting worried about Carl too – he'd been out in the woods for a bit. She was relieved when Carl appeared at the tree line, sweaty and confused with a bundle of clothes in his hand.

"Carl," Carol said, motioning him over to her, "Can you keep an eye on Beth? She's a little shaken up, and I don't want her here alone."

"Sure thing," Carl replied, "Leave it to me."

Carol smiled. "You're growing into quite the young man, you know that?"

Carl tried hard not to smile as Carol turned and started walking towards the road. Beth seemed distracted, looking down at the ground, fidgeting. She looked up when she felt a shadow over her to see Carl, blushing, holding something out to her.

"You, uh, left... these... Back there."

"Oh. Thanks, Carl," she replied, taking her clothes.

Awkward silence.

"Um," she started, but she just sighed, standing and zipping up the jeans she already had around her waste, and buttoning them. Grabbing her top, she pulled it over her head, settling into it and adjusting herself. She sat back down, setting her dirty clothes and her boots on the ground as she started to slip on her socks. Folding back the legs of her jeans so they were just above her knees, she slid her feet into her boots, relieved to at least be dressed.

"Did you... Kill it?" she finally spoke as Carl picked up a stick and poked around at the ashes of the now put-out camp fire.

"No," Carl replied, "There was someone else in the woods, a lady who... Uh... It's okay. We're safe now. I'll protect you, Beth."

_Well, gosh, if that didn't make her feel helpless._

"I really am useless, aren't I?" Beth stated, frowning.

"Don't say that!" Carl replied.

"I can't even shoot a gun! How am I supposed to _survive_ out here when I can't even shoot a gun?"

"I could teach you," Carl volunteered.

"A.. Are you sure? Is that such a good idea?" Beth replied.

"Sure," Carl came back, "I'm a great teacher."

Well. Carl hadn't really ever taught _anything_ but how hard could it be, really? He didn't know why, but lately he'd been wanting to spend more time with Beth. She was cute, after all. Even though she was _way_ older than him – three whole years. Still, Beth was his _friend_ and he wanted to protect her. And if nobody else would teach Beth how to shoot, what was wrong with him teaching her how? He knew the basics, so there was no reason not to. Right?

/

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE _HAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW!_"

Daryl was having the time of his life.

His motorcycle was back at the camp still, but as the group had set out of town, he set his sites on an abandoned ATV on the side of the road in a ditch next to some old mattresses and a few old beer bottles. The ATV still worked, and some of the parts could be used to help repair Daryl's bike – so Daryl volunteered to drive it back (despite Hershel's objections about how he needed to take it easy), and one thing led to another...

And now Glenn was riding behind Daryl. On the mattress. Lying down. Being pulled by the four wheeler. Yes. Glenn was mattress surfing. He and Daryl had huge, stupid grins on their face as they road along in the wind, but in the vehicles behind them were a very frightened Maggie and Lori. Neither Rick nor T-Dog seemed to think the situation was very reckless, and Hershel stayed silent on the matter.

"Let them have fun," Rick had said, "What's it going to hurt?"

"That's what I'm worried about," Lori had replied.

Still, here they were, zipping down the old country road.

"HEY! Daryl!" Glenn shouted out against the wind.

"WHAT? SPEAK UP, SON!" Daryl shouted back.

"GO FASTER!" Glenn shouted.

Daryl seemed to hear that just fine, as he turned his head and gave Glenn a stupid grin which made Glenn insanely worried when -

"STOP!" Glenn yelled, pointing in front of Daryl, making him whip his head around to s-

_**Screeeeeeech.**_

This time, luckily, nobody crashed into anything.

There was a woman standing in the middle of the road, a sawed-off-shot-gun in her hand and nothing but black leather clothing her body. Next thing anyone knew, everyone was pulled over, weapons drawn at this now-very-out-numbered-but-incredibly-sexy woman – little did they know, it was Meagan, the same woman Carl had just encountered.

"Put down the gun," Rick demanded, "And no one has to get hurt."

"My, my, my," Meagan commented, "Quite the impressive caravan. You folks must be with the camp that boy I just ran into was talking about."

"You've got a funny way of trying to make peace!" Rick shouted back.

"Easy, big guy," Meagan replied, dropping her gun, "He was quite the handsome young boy. I wander, who's son is he? Is it..."

She walked over towards Daryl, who's crossbow was ready to go, wavering, but for some reason, he didn't shoot an arrow at her – he was entranced and a little confused as she walked over to him, admiring him, running her hand across his scruffy face. "Yours?"

She smiled a seductive smile, walking towards Rick now.

"One more step and I won't hesitate to shoot you," Rick warned her.

"You boys sure know how to treat a lady," Meagan replied, stopping.

"What did you do to my son!?" Lori demanded.

"Oh, calm your tits, hon," Meagan replied, shaking her head, "I didn't touch him. He _killed_ my Walker though."

"Your walker? What do you mean _your _walker?" Glenn quizzed, hoping Maggie didn't see how his eyes were darting on her body – he couldn't help it. It was the leather.

"For hunting," Meagan replied, rolling her eyes, "Look, I thought you were someone else. That's why I held you all up. I'm just gonna be going no-"

"NOT SO FAST!" Rick shouted. "You said you were at our camp."

"Yeah, I guess I was near it. Why?"

Rick's eyes met with Daryl's, and then with Hershel's who just gave Rick a nod.

_**Pow.**_

/

Carol sighed, cradling her head in her hands as she sat, waiting, on the hood of the beaten up Acura. Rick and the group sure were taking their sweet time. With a bit of idle curiosity, she stood up and walked over to the passenger door of the Acura, opening it and sitting in the seat of the car. Looking around to see what she could scavenge, she found a bunch of CD's, some bottles of water, a few blankets, a plastic bag of what looked like jerky, and a bunch of papers – including a map. Folding the map out before her, she could see that it was a map of the county they were in, with huge, red circles drawn around certain parts of it, and a green circle around the part of the county they were currently in, as well as around a few other areas.

Folding the map back up, she opened the dashboard. She found a few more zip log bags of some white, crushed up powder and a hand written note:

_**Paul,**_

_Didn't want to wake you. Going into the woods to hunt; I should be back in about a week. Remember to feed the prisoners and be careful out there. If we're lucky, I should be able to find enough meat to get us through the rest of the month. Don't miss me too much. Get Jackson to help you move supplies if you find someone passing by._

_Your kitten,_

_**Meagan**_

Carol was distracted from the note when she heard the roar of engines approaching. She stepped out of the Acura and walked back over to the road to see the caravan, plus a four wheeler, drive up. She flashed a smile at Daryl, but she could see concern in his eyes. _Oh God. Who got killed._

That's when she saw a woman dressed up in leather tied up on Daryl's mattress.

And when Meagan's eyes met Carol's, they showed pain – blood was gushing out of her leg. And then, she saw the dead body of Paul on the road next to Carol, and she started to scream.

/

"Dad!" Carl rushed up to his dad the moment he stepped out of the Chevy.

"Not now, Carl. Give your mother a hand unloading the supplies."

Rick moved quickly towards the four wheeler, where Daryl was waiting for him, hovering over Meagan as tears streamed down her face and blood poured out of her leg. Hershel was quick to join them, ready to get to work, and Carl watched silently as he realized that this was the woman he'd seen earlier.

"Dad, that-"

"Carl!" Rick said more sternly, "I **said** to help your mother. Don't make me repeat myself again."

Carl turned slowly and walked over to his mother, who was unloading supplies from the Hyundai.

"Here, Carl, take this," Lori said, handing Carl a cardboard box, "We'll set it by the fire until it's time for dinner."

Carl obediently took the box, but his mind was full of questions.

"Mom," Carl said, "What happened?"

"Don't worry, honey," Lori replied, "That _woman_ is just someone we ran into on the road, but your dad's got it under control."

"Mom, you don't have to protect me."

"I'll always protect you, Carl, you're my baby boy."

"Nobody tells me anything around here," Carl muttered, walking away.

"Hey!" Lori sternly called out, "Watch your tone."

Carl didn't turn around, and Lori just sighed a deep sigh. _What am I going to do about him._

Carl quickly put the cardboard box of food down by the fire as Beth approached him.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"The woman I ran into in the woods," Carl explained, "The one who killed the Walker. They've got her tied up. She's been shot."

"Shot?" Beth asked, a tint of worry in her voice, "Is everyone okay? - Maggie? My dad?"

"Yeah," Carl replied, "Everyone's fine."

"Okay," Hershel said quietly to the men huddled around him – and Carol - "We'll have to hold her steady. This is going to hurt. A lot."

Daryl voluntarily held down her upper-body as Rick held down her legs. Carol moved quickly to the Hyundai and, digging through it, found a clean sock and walked back over to Meagan.

"Open up," Carol demanded. Meagan refused. "I'm only going to tell you once."

Meagan sighed, opening her mouth as Carol stuffed the sock into it. Hershel dug through his medical bag, finding a knife and a few alcoholic pads and a cloth.

"Glenn," Hershel said now, looking up towards Glenn.

"Oh, I can't – I'm a little squeamish. I mean, I know we kill Walkers all the time, but-"

"Can you bring me that bottle of bourbon now?"

"Oh. Right. On it."

As Glenn moved to find the bourbon, Hershel looked up at Carol. "You said you wanted to learn. I hope you still have that same desire."

"What do you need me to do, Hershel?" Carol replied.

"When I cut through the leg, we're going to have to get the bullet fragments out. As soon as I've got them out, we're going to have to stop the bleeding as quickly as possible. You're going to have to apply as much pressure to the wound as you can."

"Right," Carol confirmed, "That I can do."

"Good."

"Here you go, Hershel," Glenn said, handing Hershel the bottle of Wild Turkey. Opening it up with a pop, he took the cap of the liquor and poured a bit into it. Gently pouring the bourbon in the cap onto his knife, he handed the bottle and the cap back to Glenn and looked over to the others.

"Ready?"

/

As Meagan's muffled screams echoed into the sock in her mouth, Carl's eyes were set on the road at the edge of the forest, which he was slowly walking towards. It wasn't Meagan's screams he was hearing, but something else, something in the distance, from the road. He needed to find what it was. So, softly, he walked, hearing the crunch of the leaves under his boots, feeling the cold winter wind blowing into his face.

By the time he reached the tree line, he could distinctly hear it, now. It wasn't just one engine. It was a number of them – about three, it sounded like. Quietly setting his boots into the steep hill he'd climbed earlier, he made his way up, listening intently, stopping just before getting to the top, his eyes peering onto the road, hoping he didn't get caught.

There were two trucks and a large van in park near the Acura. Carl could see boots moving from where he was, on the other side of the van. The boots were moving towards the van, where they stopped. Carl could hear a sliding door opening on the van, and then heard a rather loud _thump_ as they threw something inside. Then, some of the boots disappeared, men stepping inside, while a few others moved into clear sight – they were all men dressed in tattered hunting clothing. A few got inside their trucks, and one stepped into the driver's position of the van. A beat, and then the vehicles made their way down the road towards town.

Carl noticed it immediately once the trucks were gone. They'd taken the body of the Acura driver.

/

Two hours passed. Meagan was still passed out from the pain of her surgery, tied up with better restraints now, around a tree. Daryl was working on his bike, and T-Dog was making the bed of his truck into, well, a literal _bed_ with the mattress, strapping it down. Rick and Hershel were checking out the scene on the road after Carl had told them about what had happened with the trucks earlier. Maggie and Glenn were keeping guard, walking the perimeter of the camp and killing any Walkers they might have found. Beth was taking a nap, which left poor Carl all by himself drawing figures in the dirt, sitting near Meagan, watching, thinking, waiting as his mom and Carol talked by the camp fire.

He was so curious about this strange woman. The way she hadn't seemed afraid when Carl had pointed his gun at her. The way she'd cut off the limbs of the walker. What she'd said about, well, _sex, _something which, sure, crossed his mind – he was a teenage boy – but not much. He had other things to worry about what with the zombie apocalypse going on. But of course he thought about sex. Hormones were raging through his body.

Sighing, he stood up. He was just so _confused._ He'd had a crush on Sophia before – well, to be honest, she'd had the crush on _him, _and she'd told him that – just before, well, y'know. It made him sad to think about it. Because when he did think about it, he realized that, well, he'd liked Sophia back. But she was dead. _Everyone died._ That's what his dad had said. He had to stop being such a kid.

So, how did he do that, anyway? What was a _man_ supposed to act like? He needed to learn, and how better to learn but through the power of observation? Walking past the camp fire where his mom and Carol were jabbering away, and over to where the vehicles were parked, he saw Daryl, sitting on a log by his bike, a wrench in his hand as he did, well, whatever he was doing. Carl watched silently, trying to observe the handy work, to learn more about, well, motorcycles, and it wasn't long before Daryl noticed. He almost told the kid to scram, but decided to take a nicer approach instead.

"Hey, kid," Daryl motioned Carl over, "I need you to get me the rear axle sleeve off that four wheeler, think you can handle it?"

"Y-yeah," Carl replied. He didn't really know what a rear axle sleeve was, but how hard could it be? Moving over to the four wheeler, Carl picked up the spare wrench off the ground and bent down by the back wheel. Rear axle, right? He looked at the wheel for a good few minutes before finally realizing he had no idea what he was doing.

"Um... I... Have to go... Do... Something," Carl explained, dropping the wrench and running off, leaving Daryl to just laugh as he continued working on the bike.

Okay, so, maybe motorcycles weren't his thing, but T-Dog was manly, right? Approaching T-Dog, Carl watched as he fastened down the mattress in the bed of his truck. T-Dog eventually noticed Carl and didn't say anything but did give him a 'man-what-you-doin' look before shrugging it off.

"Won't the Walkers be able to get to you easier if you're stuck in the truck bed?" Carl offered – it wouldn't be as easy to escape a truck bed as it would to escape the cold hard ground in the middle of the night.

"Man, I dunno," T-Dog replied, "But I sure as hell ain't gonna sleep without a gun like some _fool_."

"Do you need help?" Carl offered eagerly.

"I ain't needin' any help, I think I got it."

"Um... Okay."

Carl sighed, picking up his stick and walking back over to the tree where Meagan was tied up to continue drawing. He'd learn to be a man tomorrow. For today, he'd just continue drawing. It was going to be evening soon, and his dad would be returning with Hershel any minute, and Maggie and Glenn would be back, too. And Beth would be awake. He'd have things to do, but for now, he just kept drawing. It suited him just fine.

**A/N: **A bit more boring, I know, sorry! I just took a math final but I wanted to get another chapter up today. :)


	4. Day Two - Evening

**Day 2 – Evening**

By the time Rick and Hershel returned from their fruitless adventure on the road – searching for the men Carl had seen – it was getting dark. Rick had decided to set up camp there for the night and leave first thing in the morning – they'd drop Meagan off somewhere outside of town. But in the meanwhile, they had a bottle of bourbon and food for dinner, so it was time to have a night of fun, something the group rarely got these days.

Carol and Lori were getting the food ready, cooking over the open flame.

"Soo," Lori offered, making sure nobody else was around to listen in, "What's up with you and Daryl?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Carol replied, a smile on her face.

"Mhm," Lori replied, "Listen. You be careful with him. Those Dixon boys are a little _too_ wild sometimes."

"I need a little wild," Carol replied, "God knows Ed was a lot of things – a drunk, for one – but he was never wild, unless he was beating me.

"Do you... Nevermind."

"No, what is it?" Carol asked.

"Do you ever miss him? Excuse me. I know it's none of my business, it's... just..."

"You and Rick?" Carol asked knowingly. "Some days I miss him. Then I remember how much pain he put us through. I think it's Sophia I miss most of all... It's... It's hard," she swallowed hard, "When your baby's gone."

"I can only imagine what you're going through," Lori replied, "Here I am, babbling on about my marriage problems, and you've gone through so much."

"Yeah, well," she rubbed the tears out of her eyes, "I rely on God's strength to get me through it. One day at a time. And I survive. We've all lost so much. The only thing we can do is stick together."

/

Daryl was burning hot.

No, really. The muscle relaxing ointment Hershel had made him apply to his back was burning hot, and it itched too. T-Dog had just gotten his mattress strapped in and it'd taken some convincing for Daryl to get to lie down on it, but it was the most comfortable place for his muscles to relax. So comfy, in fact, that he slowly started to doze off to sleep.

"Hey, Daryl."

Daryl groaned. "This better be pretty damn important, kid."

"Sorry," Carl replied, "I was wondering if you could give me some pointers on something but I'll come back later."

Carl let out a deep sigh. He was just about to go ask his dad for advice when he saw his mom get up from the camp fire and start moving towards him. Deciding not to disturb Daryl any further, he walked towards his mom, curious about what she might want. He knew that she and his dad weren't talking, and that kind of upset him, but he still loved both of his parents, even if they annoyed him sometimes.

"Carl, um..." Lori paused. Okay, this was going to be a lot more awkward than she had expected. "Nevermind. I.. uh... Forgot what I was going to say. Why don't you go wake up Beth? It's almost time for dinner."

"Yes ma'am," Carl quietly replied, walking off.

Lori started walking towards the road. Rick, Glenn, T-Dog, and Hershel were up there, well, doing whatever guys did. It was probably a bad time, but it'd been pressing on Lori's mind for a few hours now. Carol had told her about what had happened that morning – first with Carl getting a glimpse at Beth's boobs in her night shirt and then later seeing her in her bra. Lori wasn't too worried about Carl – he was a good kid – but they needed to have a talk with him and make sure he knew that women weren't _objects_, they were _people_.

When Lori got to the edge of the tree line, she glanced at the steep hill and, with a deep breath and a mini-pep-talk, decided to go ahead and climb it instead of walking down the road the half-a-mile distance to where the hill got less steep. Lori was doing good and was about half-way-up when she lost her footing and started to fall, letting out a small scream before stopping her fall. That was a close one. She didn't know what to do now, and was trying to work up the courage to keep climbing when she heard a voice.

"Give me your hand."

It was her husband. She stretched her hand out towards him, but she couldn't reach. Climbing on up a little bit higher, she managed to reach his hand with a little more effort, and she could feel him pulling her up. Her eyes looked down, trying to avoid, well, how awkward this was. The words Hershel had given her earlier that morning were running through her head.

"Is everything okay?" Rick asked, not overly-sincere, once she was on solid ground. She could see T-Dog, Hershel, and Glenn around a small fire near the Acura on the other side of the road.

"Everything's fine," Lori replied, "Well, no. Not really. Rick, I know we haven't really been getting along lately, and well, I mean, I'm sorry for what I d.. Um. But, uh-"

Rick's eyes were harsh.

"Spit it out."

"I think Carl's starting to think about sex."

...

"What did you say?"

"It's just that, well, Carol said he's been flirting a lot more with Beth, and he saw her when she was half naked earlier today. Look, Rick. I know we're not on the best of terms, but one of us needs to talk to our son, and I think it'd be better if he heard this from you."

Rick was silent, absorbing the information. "I'll handle it. Thank you for letting me know."

"Rick, can w-"

But he was already walking away before she could get up the nerve to try and make things right.

/

_Beth could feel his warmth. Jimmy had never held her like this. None of the other guys back in high school had, and she longed to be touched, not at all in any kind of sexual way, just... Touched. She longed to be held. She needed to feel loved, so desperately._

_They were in the ball room of the court house back home, near the farm. It was just them – her and Carl. He was dressed in a tuxedo and looked so handsome, and she was wearing her favorite dress – a purple silk dress that went down just to her knees which her dad had given to her for her birthday last year. There was no music playing, but they danced anyway, slowly, and he held her so close._

_They were both a little bit older now. He was sixteen. She was eighteen, about to be nineteen. Slowly, he twirled her around and around. She felt so secure in his arms. It was like everything was fine. It was like the world was back to normal. In his arms, she felt like nothing in the world could touch her, like he would always be there to protect her, to love her, for as long as they lived._

"_Beth," he whispered softly._

"_Carl... Hold me closer," she replied._

"_Beth," he whispered again, "Beth..."_

"Beth?"

Had she just told him to hold her closer? A bit confused, Carl's hands wrapped around the sleeping Beth's shoulders as he sat her up from her sleeping grace on the bed of leaves she'd made. Was she cold or something? Wrapping her in a hug, Carl realized he had no idea what he was doing – that's when he heard a snicker from behind him.

Turning around, his eyes were absolutely horrified when he saw Maggie practically on the ground laughing. Carl didn't have a time to say anything, though. This little awkward moment was interrupted by the sound of T-Dog's truck revving up, followed by shouting.

/

"So, here comes ol' Earl," Rick explained, laughing his ass off as he took another swig of bourbon. The laughter of the other three guys was equally as loud, "Here comes Earl, right? And, and. Okay. And he had this stupid look on his face, just looking around, trying to find out where he was, and he looks at us, and, and, Billy says, 'Problem, deputy?' and he just says, 'I think I grabbed the wrong pack of cigarettes.'"

It'd been a stupid joke to be sure, but everything was funnier when you were drinking with your buddies, and this seemed hysterical to the men as they sat around their small fire, off the side of the road in the small grass field opposite to the forest where they'd set up camp.

"I had this buddy up in Atlanta," Glenn explained, "Who, whenever I would call him or go over to his apartment, he'd always be on his phone a lot. Well, one day, I get ov-"

**Vroooooooom, vroom vrooooooom.**

Glenn's story was cut short by the flooding sight of headlights on the road as tires squeeled. The four men immediately stood up, alarmed, drawing their weapons. To their surprise, they saw T-Dog's truck come over the hill on the other side of the road, pull onto the road itself, and then take off towards town.

"That's my _truck!" _T-Dog yelled, "HELL NAW!"

"Rick," Herhsel spoke up, urgency in his voice, "Daryl."

"Right. Glenn, get back to the camp as quick as you can. Make sure everyone's okay, and bring a car. **GO!**"

"I'll go with him," Hershel volunteered, "If someone's hurt, they're going to need me down there."

As Glenn and Hershel quickly took off towards camp, Rick practically ripped the Acura's driver door open, sitting inside and closing his eyes.

_Please, work. Please, please work._

He tried turning the key. _Wahwahwahwahwahwahwahwah._ The engine wouldn't turn over. He tried again, tapping the gas this time. _WahwahwahwahwahwahwahwahVROO OM!_

"Hop in!" Rick demanded as T-Dog quickly slid into the passenger seat. Rick put the car in drive and practically floored it, peeling onto the road and after T-Dog's truck in the beat up Acura.

/

"I thought I told you to leave me alone, kid."

Daryl's eyes opened to the sight of trees flying by. What the hell!? His eyes darted to the cab. He could see a couple of guys driving – definitely not people he knew. He was contemplating what to do, especially considering he was in a truck flying down the road at 70 miles per hour, when he heard a voice shouting in his ear.

"**You fuckin' dare move and I'll blow your brains out right here and now."**

He could feel a gun at his head.

"Aw, hell."

A/N: Very short chapter, I know.


	5. Author Note - Oppa Rick Style

**Sorry, not a real update.**

**Heeeeeeey sexy lady~**

I promise I'll write more soon! I'm quite busy with University, so that takes up most of my time, but I need to get back into the habit of writing. I wanted to write a chapter a day so I could have this whole thing finished in three months time but that's obviously not happening. But yeah, expect (hopefully) a new chapter soon!


	6. Day 3 - Midnight

**A/N:** Who's ready for tomorrow night!? :) Ah. Sorry guys. The site's lagging tonight and my file is having trouble uploading.

**Day Three**

**Midnight.**

It'd been about six hours since Daryl had been kidnapped. The group had been searching for hours, but any sign of him had disappeared without a trace. Everyone was starting to fear the worse. There was literally miles of ground to cover. They only had nine people – ten, counting the prisoner – eleven if you wanted to get technical and count Lori's unborn baby.

Rick decided that everyone should circle the search perimeter one more time and see if they could find Daryl. If they didn't find him in this search, they'd have to call it a night and wait till day break. So far, nobody had really been in luck. Rick was with Hershel, searching – and they were just about to call it a night. Rick was beginning to get a very nerve-wracking feeling in his gut.

It was dark, and Rick's eyes were peeled on the road ahead, which the headlights illuminated. Hershel's eyes wandered, trying to find any glimmer of life off the sides of the road. All Rick was thinking was how he could have been so stupid. He'd let his guard down. He'd failed the camp.

"See anything?" Rick asked hopefully.

"Not a thing," Hershel replied.

"Just a little bit further, then we'll turn around."

Hershel glanced over at Rick.

"Rick. You said that half an hour ago. It's getting dark, and you're getting tired. You're not going to be of any use to Daryl like this."

"I won't be of any use to Daryl if he's dead."

"Think about the others, Rick. We need to turn back now. We're getting further and further away from the camp."

"I'm not turning back yet," Rick replied stubbornly, "Just a little longer."

Hershel's eyes returned to the sides of the road.

A brief moment of silence.

"Rick," another voice echoed, through a bit of static, over one of the radios – it was Carol.

Rick picked the radio up, holding it up to his face.

"Go ahead."

"How far out are you?"

"About half an hour," Rick replied, "Any luck?"

"None," she replied.

"What's up?"

"Meagan's awake. She says she thinks she knows who took Daryl."

"What!?" Rick exclaimed. "Did she tell you who it was?"

"No," she replied, "She wants to talk to you."

"Alright," Rick replied, "We'll be back as soon as we can. Is everyone safe?"

"Everyone's here, safe and sound," Carol replied.

"Got it. Thanks, Carol."

/

"You're welcome, Rick," Carol enthusiastically replied, setting the radio down on the ground, next to the log she was sitting on. She looked around at Lori, Carl, and Glenn, who joined her on the logs, around the camp fire. Her eyes peered further out, at Meagan, tied up a bit behind Lori, away from the camp fire. Carol desperately wanted to go try to get the answers out of Meagan herself, right now. It was all she could do to contain herself. She was just so worried about Daryl.

"What do you think she wants?" Glenn asked, his eyes darting over towards Meagan as well.

"What do you mean, what _she_ wants?" Lori asked.

"You don't honestly think she's going to talk for free, do you?" Glenn replied, "It's like in the movies. They always try to negotiate with you."

"Negotiate?" Lori scoffed, "How's this for a negotiation? She can talk, or she can pay the consequences."

"Remind me never to cross you," Glenn quietly said, earning a small smile from Carl.

His smile quickly faded.

"Do you think Daryl's going to be okay?" Carl asked.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, honey," Carol replied, talking not just to Carl, but to herself as well. "He's got to be."

"Daryl's one tough-ass guy," Glenn added, "I'd be more worried about the guys who kidnapped him."

"I didn't get a good look at them," Lori said. "How did they sneak in so well?"

"They looked like hunters," Glenn replied, "They were wearing camouflage jackets and carrying shot guns."

"Like those guys I saw earlier," Carl chimed in, "I wonder if they're from her camp."

"I'm not sure," Glenn replied, "When we ran into her, she was waiting on someone on the road, holding up her gun. She was expecting someone else, not us. Like, she was going to kill whoever she was waiting on."

"If you're right," Carol interjected, worriedly, "We may have thrown ourselves into the middle of a war."

/

_Zip._

Maggie buttoned her jeans, picking her gun up off the ground next to her. Turning to face her sister, she could see that Beth had a slightly frightened look on her face. The two girls were in the middle of the woods right now, a short walk away from camp. Beth had been like this all night.

"Daryl's fine, Beth," Maggie told her, "I'm sure of it."

"You don't know that!" Beth exclaimed.

"Of course I do. This is _Daryl_ we're talking about. He's fine. I know it."

The two girls started walking back towards camp.

"I hope you're right," Beth replied, "Oh, _gosh._ I feel so bad for Carol."

"What do you mean?" Maggie replied.

"You haven't noticed the way she looks at him?" Beth replied, "Oh come on, Maggie. It's so obvious."

Maggie managed a laugh. "What's so obvious? How does she look at Daryl?"

"Like she's _in love._"

"And what do_ you_ know about love?" Maggie countered, amused.

Beth felt her face grow warmer.

"Just, you know, from books and movies. I haven't actually been in love."

"Yeah, okay. I'm sure that's why you were muttering in your sleep earlier, telling Carl to hold you tighter."

Beth's heart skipped a beat as she stopped, incredibly embarrassed.

"W-w-what!?" Beth exclaimed.

"Oh, don't worry. Carl didn't seem to have a clue what you were talking about. You should have seen him, trying to figure out what to do like a lost puppy dog."

"WHAT!?" Beth nearly shouted, stopping, not sure what to say.

Maggie just scoffed.

"Look at my sister. Growing up so quick."

Beth quickly resumed walking, catching up to her sister, too embarrassed to say much of anything right now.

"H-h-how bad was it?" she asked.

"Oh, _not that bad_," Maggie replied playfully – she was obviously enjoying this.

"I don't know how this could have happened."

"Well, do you_ like_ him?"

"He's thirteen, Maggie!"

"You didn't answer the question."

"Well, I mean, I g-g-guess he's cute, but, he, I, um -"

"So you **do** like him?"

"No!" Beth replied. She didn't sound too convincing. "...Or... Maybe I do."

/

T-Dog was pretty upset. He'd just lost his truck – and Daryl – and hadn't been able to find them at all tonight. He wanted to be out there looking now, but Rick had called it a night. He was still waiting for Rick and Hershel to return. It was around midnight, and he was on guard, walking through the woods, an axe swinging around in his hand, a gun holstered onto his side.

He hadn't heard anything yet. He'd been on guard since he got back, about fifteen minutes ago. Just as he'd been starting to leave, that Meagan girl had finally spoken – she said she wanted to talk to Rick. This made T-Dog even more distracted. What the hell could she possibly know about any of this, and more importantly, how could they trust her?

T-Dog quickly came up on the tree-line. He was near the road right now, a few yards south east from where the Acura had been earlier on the road. He didn't see anything at the tree-line, and started to make the climb up the steep hill towards the road. He wanted to see if he could spot Rick and Hershel yet. He was getting anxious. Understandably so, seeing as how it was his truck that had been stolen.

Climbing onto the road above, his eyes peered into the darkness, in both directions. No signs of head lights. He started walking towards the ashes of the campfire that he and the boys had set up here earlier, just a bit up the road. _How did I get myself in this mess. I should be in Atlanta, chillin' with my boys right now. This is so messed up._

_**Swoosh.**_

T-Dog dropped the axe and quickly pulled out his gun, pointing it towards the grass in the clearing across the road. He could swear that he'd just heard a noise. He didn't see anything. Maybe it was just the wind. He started walking towards the clearing, gun still raised. _Swoosh._ He saw a figure – it was a person – running.

"Hey, stop!" T-Dog yelled out.

No response - the figure kept running.

"I said stop!"

T-Dog sighed and started running after it, debating rather to shoot or not. It wasn't a Walker. He didn't think they could run this fast. No, it had to be a human. He just couldn't make out who the figure was in the darkness. Evidently, they were no immediate threat. He needed to get them to stop, to get answers. So, he kept running, and eventually, the clearing was met with another tree-line – more woods, on the opposite side of the road as camp.

/

"Maggie, are you sure we're going the right way?"

"Of _course_ I'm sure. Camp's just a little further. _I think._"

"You **think**?"

"Hey, give me a break. It's dark. We'll be fine, Beth. I know what I'm doing."

"We're... lost, aren't we, Maggie?"

"We're not lost."

"What if we can't find our way back to camp?" Beth questioned, a bit more worried, "What if we never see Dad or Glenn or Carl again. What if we-"

"Maggie, I said we're fine. The road's that way," she replied, pointing north, "If we can't find camp, we'll just walk back to the road and find our way back."

"I-if you say so."

Silence.

"Hey, Maggie?" Beth asked, "About what you said. About Carl, I mean. Do you think I r-"

"Shh," Maggie replied.

"Maggie, I'm trying to ask you a-"

"Be quiet, Beth. Listen."

Beth closed her mouth, trying to listen to what her sister was hearing. Was it a walker!? A wave of panic ran through her, but then, she heard it. It wasn't a walker. It was...

"Is that-?"

"I think so," Maggie replied, a slight grin spreading on her face. "It... It sounds like water."

/

"Maggie and Beth sure are taking their sweet time," Glenn noted. He was getting a little worried. It'd been ten minutes, and they still hadn't come back yet.

"Give the girls some space," Lori replied, "I'm sure they're fine. They'd radio if something was wrong."

"Yeah, I know, it's just -"

"Wait. Do you hear that?" Carol questioned.

The sound of an engine.

"Dad?" Carl questioned, standing and turning, his eyes darting through the trees towards the road in the distance.

"Let's hope so," Glenn replied, grabbing his gun and getting it ready. He needed to be safe. He didn't feel that safe – he was the only one armed here. Carl thought about grabbing a gun as well, but his mom would have a fit. Glenn was the only one well trained right now. Which meant, if this was the guys from earlier, Glenn would be the first one to die.

The group watched as headlights appeared in the distance, navigating through the trees towards the camp. It was a tight squeeze, which gave Glenn more than enough time to think about what could go wrong here. He was trying not to shake. _Deep breaths. Deep breaths._ Luckily, the shape of the vehicle soon became clear, and even in the darkness, they realized it was Rick and Hershel, and Glenn lowered his weapon.

"Wow," Glenn quietly breathed a silent sigh of relief as the headlights and engine cut off. Rick and Hershel stepped out of the vehicle, meeting Carl, Carol, and Lori who rushed over towards them. Glenn found himself sitting back down to get a hold of himself. That could have been bad.

"Has she said anything" Rick asked Carol.

"Nothing yet," Carol replied, glaring over towards Meagan, "Not since earlier. She was determined to talk only to you."

"I can't say that I'm all that flattered," Rick replied, approaching Meagan quickly. He drew his gun, pointing it right at Meagan, earning slight gasps from those behind him. Everyone was still getting used to this new Rick. He was a lot different now. He had been ever since they'd lost Shane.

"Talk," Rick demanded.

Meagan could see that he didn't intend to play any games. Her facial expressions quickly became much more serious.

"The guys who have your man," she started, "They have a compound, about forty miles away, across the county. They're hunters, like me. They use walkers to track down supplies – food. Deer. Maybe people with supplies, if we're lucky."

"You and the man from the Acura," Rick replied, "You two are part of this group?"

"No," Meagan replied, "Their compound's crawling with fresh meat. Perfect for hunting. It's near the interstate, too. They've got all kinds of traps set up for people passing by. My camp and I moved over here from the county over about a month ago. We ran into trouble with these guys, saying we were hunting in _their spot_. We got in a firefight, lost two of our guys."

"What do these guys want with our people?" Rick demanded.

"I'm _getting_ to that. Paul, my boyfriend. He was incredible. He led us here, to this part of the county. It's good for hunting, and they don't bother coming this far away from their compound. Everything's been pretty quiet for about a month... Their leader. Michael. He's pretty ruthless... If I were your friend, I'd be worried."

Her eyes locked with Rick's.

"You need me to take you to him. The sooner, the better. Maybe you can make some kind of deal."

"You still haven't explained what they want with my people."

"They _don't," _she replied angrily. "They don't want _anything_ with your people. They want me. And they've got a hostage. But you can't trade me, it won't do you any good anyway. They won't honor their word. They'll take me, and then kill your friend. You need me. You need my help to rescue your friend."

_Static._

"Hey, Rick," T-Dog's voice came over the radio.

"Go ahead," Rick replied, holding the radio to his mouth.

"I think I found something you may want to see."

/

_Gagged_.

Still gagged, unable to talk.

Daryl had been in this dark room for hours now. He didn't really know where he was. By his estimate, probably some thirty miles away from camp. Maybe more. Maybe less. He knew that the chair he was cuffed to was really uncomfortable. He knew that if he made a sound, the man sitting across from him, on the other side of this wooden table, would shoot him dead.

The man had a large beard, and quite the beer gut. He had dark, red hair, covered by a cap. He, like everyone else he'd seen here so far, was dressed in hunting clothes. He had large scratch marks on his face, and something told Daryl that a walker hadn't caused those. Daryl didn't want to know what had.

It was now, after what had to have been hours of silence, that the man sitting across from Daryl finally spoke, his words apologetic.

"You ain't got nothin' to worry about, y'know," he told Daryl, "We ain't after none of you or your group."

"Shut up," Daryl replied.

"It's just that lady you got tied up in your camp," he continued, "She ain't exactly our best of friends here, if y'know what I mean."

"I said shut up," Daryl said again.

"I was just tryin' to keep ya compan-"

_Creek._

A door slowly opened, illuminating a bit of light into the room. Daryl could now see that he was in what looked like a small, empty bed-room. On the other side of the room from where he was sitting, an empty bed sat comfortably. It looked very nice compared to the uncomfortable chair Daryl had been in for the last few hours.

Standing at the door was another man, the one who had been in the back of the truck with Daryl earlier. This man had black hair, short, neatly cut into a buzz. He had a much more muscular body than the other man sitting across from Daryl. His face looked stern, eyes deciphering the situation. He was not as friendly as his friend.

"Alex. What are you doing?"

"Nothing, Keyers. I ain't doin' nothing."

"It sounded like you were talking to the prisoner," Keyers replied harshly.

"I was just sayin' how he ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout so long as his friends do what they're told."

"Oh, is that so?" Keyers replied, approaching the table slowly. Daryl's eyes took in this man's form, trying to figure out just who he was, what he was about.

_..._

_Pow._

Keyer's fist met Alex's jaw before he knew what was coming to him. Alex stumbled forward before dropping onto his knees, onto the ground, hand covering his jaw, in pain. Before Alex could even recover, Keyers' foot gave Alex a good kick right in the gut. Alex fell over in pain before vomiting on the floor. Just when he thought he was okay, he felt Keyers' hands grab him by the back of his shirt, pulling him back up to Keyers' level.

He was shaking in fear as Keyers glared into his eyes.

"_**Unh.**_"

Keyers practically _slung_ Alex towards the wall, which Alex would have hit with full force had the bed not stopped his fall first. Alex's body fell over onto the bed, sideways, and he fell over it, his head hitting the floor as his body slid off. Intense pain throbbed throughout Alex's body. He could hear Keyers' footsteps. Keyers was walking towards him. _No, not again._

Keyers glared down at Alex, once more looking at him in the eyes.

"No more talking," Keyers ordered.

"Y-y-yes sir," Alex managed.

Keyers turned and started walking towards the door. He stopped as he reached the door frame, turning to glare back at Daryl. Daryl's face was one of... Discomfort. Not fear, but discomfort for sure. Keyers smirked. Daryl was speechless, unsure what he should say or do as the door closed, and once more, darkness returned to the room.

/

Rick really had no idea what to say.

He had received T-Dog's transmission loud and clear. T-Dog had followed the figure he saw in the darkness through the woods. After awhile, T-Dog lost track of the figure, and started back when he stumbled into a trap. _A hole, dug in the middle of the ground – deep – covered in camouflage._ T-Dog had been there, on the ground, in pain, when he called Rick.

He waited for Rick. He was overall okay, lucky considering he'd fallen several feet. The hole was too deep to get himself out of. He'd need help. He just hoped whoever had dug this trap wouldn't find him first. Only, it was a few minutes after he'd fallen that he heard a noise. No. He heard a voice.

"Who's out there?" T-Dog called out.

"I could say the same to you!" the voice replied – a male voice.

"I asked first," T-Dog came back.

"Actually, I did," a third voice, also male, spoke. "You didn't hear me."

"I'm just... I'm a **friend**. I don't want any trouble. I saw something moving through the woods, and I followed it. Can you let me out of here?"

"Oh, believe me, friend. I would let you out if I could," the second voice came back.

"Well, why can't you?" T-Dog asked.

"We're stuck too," the third voice said, "In another hole."

"Why the hell would anyone dig two trap holes right next to each other?" T-Dog questioned.

"Long story," the second voice replied, "I'll tell you all about it later. Were you calling for help, earlier? Do you have some sort of phone?"

"Yeah, I've got a radio," T-Dog replied, "Help's on the way."

"Oh, good," the second voice replied, "Listen, we'll be happy to help you however we can. We've been trapped down here for days."

"Trapped?" T-Dog asked.

"Yeah, well," the third voice came back, "Like he said. It's a long story."

T-Dog was about to respond, when he heard a voice come on through the radio – not Rick's. In fact, it wasn't anyone he recognized.

"**I want to speak to whoever's in charge.**"

"Hey, that voice," the second voice expressed, surprised.

"It sounds like... Samuel," the third voice confirmed.

/

"This is Rick Grimes. I'm in charge," Rick replied over the radio.

He had just been about to leave to go find T-Dog when the message came through. Maggie and Beth were just getting back to camp, and everyone was silent, following Rick's orders, trying to stay warm by the camp fire. Everyone listened with earnest to hear the mysterious voice on the walky-talky.

"**Do you have the girl?**"

"Who am I speaking to?" Rick replied.

"**DO YOU HAVE THE GIRL!?"** the voice shouted back.

"Yeah. Yeah, we've got the girl. Do you have my man?"

"**The girl. The girl, and both of our people for yours."**

"I said we have the girl. We don't have any of your people."

"**STOP FUCKING WITH ME!**" the voice shouted. "**Our people. The girl will know where they are. If you want your friend back, you'll give them to us. Tomorrow, eleven AM. Town square.**"

"How do I know I can trust you?" Rick questioned. "What's to say you won't just try to kill us all on the spot?"

The voice was silent for a bit.

"Are you still there?" Rick asked.

"**Hold on.**"

...

A different voice now.

"_**Hello, Rick."**_

"How do you know my name? Who the hell _are_ you?" Rick replied.

"_**Listen up, Rick. My name's Michael. I'm going to give you back your man, if you honor your side of the agreement, but just so we're clear here. Every time you fuck up, and don't play by the rules, that's a strike for you. And every time you fuck up, I start cutting away on your friend. First, I'll rip his eyes out of his sockets and let you listen to his screams. Then, I'll start sawing off his toes. And I'll keep sawing until I have what I want. Are we clear?**_"

"Crystal," Rick replied.

"_**Good. I'm glad we had this little chat, Rick. Get some sleep. You've got a big day tomorrow.**_"

Rick put the radio down, letting the conversation he'd just had sink in. What kind of people were they dealing with? These guys weren't normal – they were psychotic. There was absolutely no way to guarantee anyone's safety. Rick knew about guys like this – guys like Michael. Guys like Shane. And guys like that wouldn't hesitate to kill everything in sight.

Glancing around at the frightened expressions of those around him, he nodded at them, a serious look on his face.

"Everyone get some sleep. In the morning, we go to war."


	7. Author Note - Apology

**Author's Apology**

I want to apologize about whatever was going on last night, but none of us could access the new chapter for some reason. It seems to finally be up this morning. So, enjoy the new chapter (the chapter before this note.) and let me know what you think!


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